She loved him and he loved her, but it wasn't that simple
by storiesseldomtold
Summary: A collection of Outlaw Queen prompts and one-shots
1. Operator, number, please

_And those were the days of roses,_

 _Poetry and prose and Martha_

 _All I had was you and all you had was me._

 _There was no tomorrows,_

 _We'd packed away our sorrows_

 _And we saved them for a rainy day._

* * *

"Hello, Regina Mills on Mifflin Street, Storybrooke, Maine, please?"

Robin sighed. He had promised himself not to do this, to just keep his life in line and not interfere with the way things were going. And actually, they _were_ going pretty well, even after all this time. He was married to Marian. They would even celebrate their fortieth wedding anniversary in four years. His only son Roland had just turned thirty. He was a newlywed with a little girl on the way.

 _Dear God, where did the time go?_

Robin and Marian were happily retired, finally free to do the countless things they have longed to do for so long: painting, travelling, and very soon spoiling a beautiful little princess.

But it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

Because he didn't have Regina with him.

The call went through.

 _Will she even remember my voice?_

"Hello, who is it?" he heard a female voice say.

He would always remember hers.

"Hello there, is this Regina?"

He heard her gasp at the other end of the line.

"It's Robin Locksley. I'm calling to… ask how you've been", he hesitantly said.

"Robin. Yes. I never thought I would hear from you again. Ever."

"Well, yes, here I am. How are you, Regina?"

This felt so uncomfortable. He had to remind himself of the fact that they were nothing to each other anymore, at least he was nothing to her. Hard to imagine, when you once were each other's everything.

"I'm fine. Just a bit gobsmacked to hear from you after, what, forty years?"

"Yes, exactly forty years", he said, "but who's counting?"

He was.

He continued, "I feel much older now, I can tell you that."

"Yes, that tends to happen over time."

He chuckled awkwardly.

Silence fell over the call.

"How is Daniel? And Henry? Anyone else?"

"Everyone is fine, Robin."

"That's great to hear. I'm glad you have them in your life." He swallowed hard. "You know that I got married too? To Marian. We have a son, and he's ma–"

"Robin, I don't have to hear all of that. Please", she interrupted. Her voice fragile as ever.

"Will you hear me out for a minute?"

"Robin, I–"

"Regina, please. It won't take long."

She sighed audibly, "Fine."

"I was impulsive. I have always been that way, and I guess that I still am, calling you out of the blue like this. Back then… Oh Regina, we were so young. We were living on a pink cloud with no tomorrows, only todays. We could only count on each other because all we _had_ was each other. But, well, I just guess it was never meant to happen between us. But…"

He started to sweat, his mouth dry and his head burning. He breathed in, tears flowing down his face.

"But, you see, Regina. The thing is, I… I love you."

Complete silence.

"Ro–"

But he missed it. He had hung up the phone. He leaned his forearms against the wall and started banging his head against it. How could he have been so stupid? That's not something you do, just calling someone after forty years to tell them you love them.

Enough. That's enough.

" _Robin, I love you too."_


	2. Cracker

**Cracker**

 _Fluffy Christmas one-shot_

* * *

It was their first Christmas together in Storybrooke. It was also Roland and Robin's first ever Christmas. All the more reason for her to make it extra special. She wanted it to be the best they will ever have. So she decided to go all out: silky pumpkin soup with a dollop of cream, juicy roast beef with gravy, rosemary potatoes and steamed spicy carrots, and some delightful apple turnovers for dessert. She would set up the greatest tree she could find – the greatest that would fit in the living room, that is –, decorate it to perfection and spread all of the gifts on the blanket surrounding the fir. She had already picked a colour scheme: red and gold, a Christmas classic. She set the table beautifully, complete with Christmassy flower arrangements and Christmas crackers to match the tree.

All of this for her three favourite boys.

She thought about the last time she celebrated Christmas this abundantly, back when the only mother Henry knew was her. A couple of months after that, their little cocoon had collapsed. It stung. But only a little. Because he loved her again. After all of the pain they both went through, he loved her again. And not just the mother he once knew, he loved _her_ , all of her. And so did Roland and Robin.

She was so happy, she smiled until her cheeks hurt.

Presents were opened, smiles and thank yous were exchanged, and stomachs were filled.

It was time for dessert. "But before you wolf down your turnover, we have a tradition in this family of opening these little packets here. They're called Christmas crackers and they're a lot fun. Henry, will we show them how it's done?" He nodded excitedly. It's something they have always done together. They each took an end of the cracker and pulled.

Unfortunately, Roland was paying more attention to his colouring book and he shrieked when he heard the bang from the cracker opening. Tears started flowing down his cheeks and he immediately bounced into his father's lap.

"Papa, what was that? Please chase away the bad guys." Roland cried. He was terrified.

Regina rushed to Roland's side while Robin soothed him and caressed his messy curls.

"Honey, you're okay," Regina cooed, "it was just the cracker over there. And I know just the thing that will make you alright again."

"You do?" Roland said, looking at her with those big, tearful eyes.

"I do, baby." Regina leaned over the table to retrieve the cracker. She emptied it in front of them, Roland staring in awe at the numerous gifts coming out – Robin as well.

She pulled out a small paper containing a joke (There were two pizzas baking in the oven. Said one pizza to the other: "It sure is warm in here, isn't it?" to what the other pizza replied: "Oh my, a talking pizza!" Robin and Roland asked in unison: "what's a pizza?"), a miniature plastic badminton set, and a purple paper crown.

"You see this, Roland? I can spread it out all the way until I get… a beautiful crown."

Roland "ooh'd" in excitement.

Regina continued, "You know whose crown that is?"

Roland shook his head.

"It's yours. Do you want me to put it on you?"

"Yes, R'gina, I want the crown!"

She set the crown on his head, careful not to rip it because of the big curly bunch on his head.

"There you go, sweetheart."

"Thank you, I love it! Thank you!"

"Shall we open the other crackers too, then? Can you handle the bang now?"

He nodded, "Yes, everyone has to wear the crown!" So they did.

Regina went to the kitchen to fetch the turnovers.

She was standing against the cabinet when she felt two arms encircle her waist. Robin laid his head on her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

"You're the perfect mother to our children, my love."

She turned in his arms. "Henry was also scared the first time we pulled a cracker. But after that one time, he loved it. I'm sure Roland will too."

"Oh, I think he already does."

He moved closer and met her lips in a lingering kiss, his hand tangling in her hair.

He pulled back and pouted, "You know, I was quite scared too when you opened the cracker, it was a pretty loud bang."

She chuckled, "Oh, is that so? I thought you were tough and fearless."

"Apparently not," he shrugged, "will you comfort me too please?"

"Oh, I know just the thing. There's one present in my closet I haven't opened yet. I bought it especially for you," she teased.

She got out of his embrace and turned back around to reach for the tray.

Robin bit his fist, "You'll be the death of me, my love."

She winked at him and gave him a quick peck on the lips before returning to the boys.

A perfect Christmas all the same.

* * *

 _A/N: Please review, dear readers!_


	3. Fireworks of our own

_Happy New Year to all! I wish you all the best this year._

 _A New Year's missing year (Missing New Year's?) OQ one-shot: it's New Year's Eve and Regina feels downhearted because she misses Henry. A certain thief tries to cheer her up._

* * *

He finds her in her rooms.

He had wondered where she was, because she hadn't shown up to the party the Charmings were throwing in the ballroom downstairs. He asked his Merry Men to keep an eye on Roland, who was already sleeping peacefully in Little John's lap. He thought about going to the stables to search for her, but since it was freezing outside, he figured she would probably be in her quarters.

She's sitting on the cold floor, empty eyes staring at the wall. Her long raven hair falls along her face in wet strands. She is wearing a soft white cotton gown. He figured she had bathed herself and is ready for bed, and that she will not be coming to the ball anymore. He turns around to leave her be but he can't bring himself to get through the door. She needs a friend. If that's even what he is to her. She's always grumbling when he's around, yelling at him and calling him _thief_ in a spitting tone that stings in his chest. But he can also see the way she glances at him in meetings when she thinks he's not looking, or the manner in which her eyes sparkle when she sees him playing with Roland. And he's sure of it that she has already seen his lingering looks whenever she's around and his amused smirks every time she shuts the Prince up. It's those little things that make him want to say tonight.

He approaches her and her head springs up, her eyes piercing through his head. But she doesn't say anything. She simply continues to stare at him, and at the same spot on the grey wall thereafter.

Robin knows. He knows why she's sitting here, why she's not downstairs enjoying herself – well, more like tolerating a festive occasion rather than enjoying it.

Henry. Her son.

Regina herself hasn't spoken to him about him, yet. Whenever she was absent from a meeting or dinner, he would ask Princess Snow about it. The first few weeks, she waved her hand, telling him she was just tired or working on a way to defeat her wicked sister. But when he didn't see her for a whole two days, he pushed Snow into telling him something more about it, worried out of his mind. That's when she told her it was her son's birthday. Her son, Henry, whom she had to leave behind in the Land without Magic, whom she would never be reunited with. He understood then, would understand when she skipped a meal, and wouldn't ask questions when he saw her staring into the abyss, plunged in thought.

Instead, he would try to cheer her up, without success of course. The only thing that would always make her smile, genuinely, was Roland. Her brave knight, Roland. His boy was quite fond of her as well, always asking when _his_ Majesty would come and play with him again, when she would read him his favourite bedtime story about a lonely queen and the little boy who had saved her. It always pains Robin to look at her then, but he knows she finds comfort in it too. He is glad that Roland is able to alleviate some of her pain.

But Regina, she knows too. She knows that Robin knows. It's in the way he looks at her, almost with… _love_ in his eyes – although he probably just pities her. So she doesn't say anything when he enters her room, or not even when he shuffles toward her and sits himself down next to her. Just like he doesn't say anything when she rests her tired head on his shoulder and melts into him.

"You know what I miss most about him?" she pauses, "His smile." He hums and lays his warm hand on her cold one. "On New Year's Eve, he always had the most beautiful of smiles on his face when we had just ringed in the New Year together. We would go to the backyard and I would stand behind him with a blanket wrapped around the both of us. Then I would magic some fireworks in the sky, just for him, because I'd give anything to start the year with that blissful smile on my sweet boy's face. I hope he'll have that too where he is now." She sighs.

"Why don't you show me?" he suggests. She removes her head from his shoulder and looks at him with a questioning expression. "I don't know what fireworks are, but the way you describe the effect they can have, I'm sure they're magically beautiful."

She shrugs her shoulders and sighs, "It doesn't matter. Henry isn't here to see it."

But Robin would have none of it. He gets up from the hard floor and reaches for her hand, but she doesn't move. "Regina, please. We are going to the balcony and you will magic some of those beautiful fireworks into the air." He can see her mind going from one direction to another, can see her thinking. "No, it's useless."

"But what if it isn't? What if he's looking at the sky right now, his mouth ready to curl up into that beautiful smile of his that you love so much? Maybe he's – even without him knowing – waiting for his mum to make those fireworks appear."

She sighs, resolutely though. She takes his hand, urging him to follow, and they saunter to her balcony. "Watch."

He looks up at the sky and sees the most wonderful moving colourful specks; he doesn't even know how to describe it. But then he looks down again and catches something he has never seen before: Regina smiling directly at him. "It's the most beautiful sight I have ever seen." They smile, both well aware of the fact that he wasn't talking about the fireworks.

She leans into him until their arms are touching, and looks up at him, her dark brown orbs reflecting the flamboyant sky. "Thank you. For this. For everything. Letting me so close to Roland. I'm sure I'm not preferable company for a little boy." He carefully wraps an arm around her and leans in to rest his head on hers (with caution though, he wouldn't want her – would never want for her – to feel uncomfortable around him, but she lets him, for now), "Nonsense, milady. Roland loves you being around him." _And so do I_. There's no need for him to say it out loud apparently, because she takes his hand in hers and smiles against his shoulder.

They hear cheering in the distance. "Well, I guess the time has come, milady. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year, Robin." _Maybe I_ can _get used to calling him by his name._

"Happy New Year, Henry," she whispers. He pulls her closer. "Happy New Year, Henry."

* * *

 _Please review!_


	4. Dimples Queen five sentences

_A/N: From tumblr: send me a pairing and first sentence, I'll write the next five._

 _theonewithoutaclue: Dimples Queen - the clock had barely ticked past 6:00am when she felt the tug on her comforter, and looked down to see bright eyes looking up at her through the dimly lit room._

* * *

Noticing the fear in his eyes, she asked him what was wrong, but even before she got an answer, his little – wet? – hand grabbed hers and pulled her away from the warmth of the bed, urging her to "come, R'gina". While she walked with him towards the bathroom, she heard the faint sound of water dripping, fearfully thinking _oh no, sweetheart, what have you done?_ The peculiar scene in front of her made her eyes widen and her throat gasp: Henry's – now torn up – book lying on the drenched tiled floor next to a clogged toilet filled with the colourful pages, damaged beyond repair. After removing some salvageable ones on top, she notices they were all from her story as the Evil Queen, and she asked her now crying little knight why he did that, enveloping him in a tight hug.

"I want to write a new book about our family and how much you love us, because the book is wrong; you're not like that anymore, you're my mommy now," and now she was the one crying.

* * *

 _Please review! (Though is currently having some issues and I can't see all of the reviews, but I'll get back to you as soon as it's fixed!)_


	5. That lot there

_A/N: OQ AU one-shot loosely based on_ Ces gens-là _by Jacques Brel, a song about a family living in the margins of society._

 _This is a_ very _experimental drabble and I don't know what to make of it, I don't know if I even like it. Almost everyone's characteristics – both good and bad – are being twisted into a negative extreme._

 _It's not a happy one. Forgive me while I crawl into the back of my closet, hoping to escape to Narnia._

 _I hope you (can) like/appreciate it nonetheless._

 _I would_ **LOVE** _some feedback on this one, so please don't hold back your opinions._

* * *

Well, there's the oldest sister, who is always complaining about how she's not enough, will never be enough. She was given away at birth but found her parents again after she turned 18. But they still don't think much of her, at least not her mother, who conceived her with another man before getting married to her husband. She… She's just so jealous, sir. It's a surprise her head didn't explode yet. She feels like her mother has given her nothing, because she thinks she deserves so much more. Truth is, she doesn't even try to do better for herself, she's just working her way down the list of the men in town, trying to find someone who can give her what she wants. Money. Power. Attention. She doesn't care about love. She spends her Sundays in church, sleeping off her hangover, thighs still slick from the man she spent the night with, disappointed again that this one also can't give her what she wants. See for yourself, sir: that lot there, it doesn't think, sir. It doesn't think. It prays.

And then, there's the mother, who is even worse. She wants the best for her children – or at least, that's what she thinks –, wants to send them on a certain path, and if they don't satisfy her expectations, she… _drops_ them, because they're lost causes. Her firstborn wasn't good enough; she already knew that two minutes into her life. She was a bastard. And then she tricks people into doing what she wants; her friends – they're not friends though, you don't manipulate your friends –, her family. But she's quite the role model to her daughter, sir, because she too used to sleep around in town, scratching names off of her list every weekend. At least her daughter hasn't conceived a child with a strange man. Yet. Eventually, she did find a well-off man willing to marry the village whore, because he was too naïve to realise. You see, sir. That lot there, it doesn't live, sir. It just doesn't live. It cheats.

The rest of them aren't better. They became like this because of that vile matriarch. There's the youngest sister, who used to be so happy all of the time, telling everyone to have hope, to keep faith, that something good will happen. Some time ago, she stopped believing it herself and went through a severe depression. She's going to a doctor now, she has mental issues – I don't know the details of that – and she's on medication. I hope she'll be alright. She's not like the others. And then there's also the father, who is a kind man, but not very bright. He just lets his twisted wife manipulate their daughters, which lowers him to her level, in my opinion. Sir, he just sits there, smiling like the fool he is. He could stop her, you know? He's just too scared to interfere. You know they don't even listen to him anymore when he has something to say? They just want him to die already, because he has money. Let me tell you, sir. That lot there, it doesn't talk, sir. Not really. It counts.

But then... Then, there's Regina, who is like a beam of sunshine on a cloudy day. And I love her, I love her so much, and she loves me equally. We often say that we'll run away together, build a house together, without the confinements of brick walls, but made wholly out of glass. We say that we'll live a perfect life in there, without worries, just the two of us in the middle of nowhere, together in our little cocoon… But the others, they don't want it, sir. They won't let us. They say that she's too beautiful for me, too good. They, _of all people_ , think I'm not good enough. They think so lowly of me, sir. You have to see the way they look at me. Like I smother kittens in their sleep. But sometimes, when we see each other, Regina and I, we think about ways out of there. And then she says that she'll run away, that she's _going to_ run away. And, only if it's just for a second, sir, I believe her. But only for a second. Because, that lot there, sir… They don't leave, sir. They don't leave.

But it's getting late. I have to go now. Home.

* * *

Sorry. Please review!


	6. Haircuts and bruises

**Haircuts and bruises**

 _A/N: I wanted to write something quick before bed :)_

 _Based on this prompt from otpprompts (Tumblr) : Person A dyed/cut their hair and they hate how different it looks. They spend the day getting compliments but they still hate it. It's not until they get home and person B tells them how beautiful they look that they decide they like it._

 _I hope you'll enjoy it!_

* * *

Why did she do that? She was perfectly happy with how it was. Robin always loved it. He loved to tangle his hand in her long raven locks when they kissed, loved to make little braids in her hair in bed when the sun was just starting to wake up while she was still sleeping, and loved the way her loose sweaty hair framed her face when she was riding on top of him. But having long hair and a baby was simply asking for trouble. She'd had short hair while raising Henry, which was especially handy while he was a baby, because he wouldn't be able to grab it. She had never thought about it until she was rocking their fussy little peanut to sleep and she reached out and clasped her tiny hand around a number of Regina's dark strands. Preferring not to wear her hair in a ponytail, she decided to just cut it short again, get it over with.

But now that it was done, she didn't feel like herself anymore. She once more looked like the strict heartless mayor she once was. It made her feel like the outcast again. Even the reassuring "Regina, your hair looks great!"-s and the other kind compliments didn't make her feel good. Whenever she looked in the mirror, she felt like she was looking at that same bitter woman again.

Turns out all she needed to make her feel like herself again was the loving look Robin gave her when she entered the mansion, telling her "You look as beautiful as ever, my phenomenal queen", along with a dashing smile and a lingering kiss. And like always, his hand tangled in her hair. Like always, he would wake her up the next morning while braiding her hair softly. Like always, he would admire her that same night, somewhat shorter hair still sticking beautifully to her reddened cheeks. And he would tell her he loves her, even if she were bald or had a purple buzz cut. He would love her anyway, no matter what hairstyle, no matter what whatever.

* * *

 _Please review! Love_


	7. Always (Regal Believer)

**Always: a Regal Believer one-shot**

 _Regal Believer one-shot: Regina comforts Henry after they receive the news of his childhood hero dying._

 _May you rest in peace, mister Alan Rickman._

 _(No OQ this time, but oh well)_

* * *

Henry hasn't been downstairs for three hours. Unusual, Regina thinks, he should have come down an hour ago for a snack. After they returned from the Underworld, things had gotten back to normal. Not normal as in: another villain to defeat. No, normal as in: everything was peaceful, people were kind and weirdly, everyone got accepted. Regina had suspected it to be another curse, a peculiar one at that, but it had stayed like this for a while now, and she was starting to actually believe that the inhabitants of Storybrooke were genuinely friendly. That meant school going on again as usual. Henry has tests to study for, so he spends most of his afternoons after school studying in his room. He will always come by around 5 to fetch a piece of fruit or a cookie. But no Henry yet, and it's already 6. Regina will start dinner soon. So she decides to go and take a look in her son's room.

She walks up the stairs, treading lightly along the steps with her fluffy socks. Knocking on his door and opening it, she whispers, "Henry? Everything okay in here?" That's when she sees him laying on his bed, arms around his pulled-up knees. She speeds towards him and sits next to him on the bed, "Henry, sweetheart, what happened? Are you okay?" she says while wiping his hair out his reddened face. "Darling, have you been crying? Wha- what's going on?" Henry turns around, teary eyes staring up at her. Sobbing, he says - or tries to at least - "Snape died, Mom." Regina frowns, "But honey, you've finished those books and movies years ago. Where is this coming from now?" He huffs and turns around again. "Snape died, for real now," he mumbles. "Look at my computer screen." Regina rises and walks over to his desk, and she moves the mouse lightly, making the screen light up.

"Actor Alan Rickman (Severus Snape) dies of cancer at 69."

Henry loved Snape, loves Snape. He had always seen the good in him, even during the time where he was just a Dumbledore murderer to others. He had known this wasn't true, didn't believe that this misunderstood man was nothing more than a liar and a murderer. And he had been right.

Regina walks back over to him, rubbing his arm, "Oh sweetheart. I know you've always loved him." He sits up and jumps into her arms, whispering into her ear: "You know why I love him so much?" She shakes her head slowly. "Because he reminds me of you." She pulls back and looks into his eyes with a confused expression. "What? Why?" Henry swallows, "Because he was misunderstood, like you. He was… mean, but not without reason. Like you, you both just wanted to be happy." Regina's eyes started filling with tears. "Henry, I-"

He immediately envelops her in a tight hug, "I love you so much, Mom." She pulls back and says the only thing she's able to say:

"After all this time?"

Henry smiles.

"Always."


	8. Trouble

**Trouble**

 _I'm a total slut for parent/teacher AUs so here ya go._

* * *

"Next week we'll continue with the history lesson, we'll discuss the American Revolution," she checked her watch and continued, "you can start getting ready now; the bell will ring any second." With the rumbling of pupils tidying up in the background, Regina turned around and took the chalkboard eraser in her hand. After one stroke she noticed that the chalk wasn't going away, actually there was more chalk appearing on the blackboard. She looked down at the eraser and found a piece of chalk hidden between two of the felt strips. She turned around, her raven hair swinging along, calling out the chattering students, "Who did this? Come on, how many times have I told you not to do this? I don't like it. And you won't like it either, because I will give out punishments again this time. I'm sick of these stupid pranks." Suddenly it dawned on her: she knew who did this. Her eyes darted to the other side of the classroom, where the little troublemaker was sitting, guiltily staring out of the window.

 _Not again._

Then the bell rang. "You're dismissed. Have a good weekend!" She went up to the boy who was still putting on his coat while the rest of his classmates were already running outside. She squatted in front of him, laying her hand on his coated arm. "Roland…" He kept his face down, his eyes almost completely covered by his bouncy curls. "Roland, look at me. I'm not mad." He looked up then, big brown eyes staring into hers. "Actually I am a little angry." She scrunched her nose while looking at him. "Why did you something like that again, Roland? You know I don't like that. I don't want to be angry, but you're making it really hard for me." She chuckled softly at that. He started, "I know, I just–"

"Roland! Hey, I couldn't find you for a minute."

Regina rose from her crouching position to find Roland's father standing there, all flushed cheeks and reddened nose.

"Hi Mr Locksley, I was just talking to Roland about another little incident. Can I talk to you for a minute?" _Again._

He looked a little bewildered, but then answered with a resolute "yes, of course." Regina smiled and walked towards the chalkboard again, removed the piece of chalk from the eraser and started to actually wipe it clean. She heard Roland's concerned father say: "You just go to the playground for a minute, David is over there with Neal, you can wait with them. I'll be right there, my boy." She turned around after she finished and saw a last look of the scene in front of her: father and son hugging it out, father sending son off with a last ruffle of his hair. Father turning towards her, grabbing a chair on his way to her desk, and sitting down across from her, smiling.

 _Can he stop flashing those dimples?_

"So, Mr Locksley–" He interrupted immediately, as usual, "Please, call me Robin." She gave him a slight nod, "Fine, _Robin_ , Roland put a piece of chalk in the chalkboard eraser again. I can't accept this. This is the, what, tenth time maybe that you're sitting here with me? I can't appreciate Roland's behaviour, Mr Lo– _Robin_." He moved to the tip of seat, resting his forearms on Regina's desk. "Regina–"

"Unlike you, I do still prefer Ms Mills," she said with a knowing smile. The first two minutes of these conversations were always the same. She calls him Mr Locksley, he corrects her. She talks about Roland's behaviour, he comes to sit closer to her. He calls her by her first name, _she_ corrects _him_. It never failed to amuse her, how he keeps insisting on a more personal relationship. But she wouldn't budge, this was still a strict parent-teacher relationship. Maybe she had a closer relationship with him than she had with the other parents, but that wasn't because of her. It was because his son kept misbehaving, and she couldn't just let him get away with it without talking to his father. And sometimes he asked about her son – she didn't even know how he knew of her son - and so she told him about Henry – she couldn't just ignore his questions, right? He was no nosy child looking into her private life.

He nodded and continued, "Ms Mills, I don't know why Roland keeps doing this. You talk to him about it, I do too every time I hear about something he's done. I'll talk to him again later."

She gave him a weak smile, "Thanks, I would appreciate it. You see, the weird thing is that Roland isn't a bully or a troublemaker. He has friends but they are the quietest children in class. He's not friends with the problematic children. I don't understand why he always picks on me. Did he tell you anything about me that might have bothered him?" She looked very concerned, couldn't believe that Roland would have anything against her.

He was fast to reach for her hand and laid his on hers, "No, of course not. He loves you, he thinks you're an amazing teacher. Maybe he just wants to get your attention?" he asks hesitantly, clear blue orbs reflecting the lifted sorrow on her face.

 _He does have great eyes._ She shook her head. _Damn, snap out of it, Regina._

It was only then that she noticed his hand on top of hers. She pulled her hand away, not wanting to admit how much she missed the warmth of his soft palm already, and laid both her hands on her lap. "Well, I really can't tell why he does it, Mr Locksley. Go talk to him and let me know if he says something that can clear this up." They both rose at the same time, Robin already taking the chair to put it back at the table. "No, just leave it. I still have to clean up anyway." But he shook his head, "Oh no, milady, I'm perfectly capable of cleaning up after myself." She smiled at that, nodding her head, "Okay, if you insist." She turned around and walked towards the sink, ready the get the bucket and sponge to clean the blackboard properly.

"Ms Mills?" She turned her head to where his voice came from. "Yes?"

"Thank you for looking after Roland and being so gentle with him. Other teachers would have given him plenty of punishments by now." Her hands emerged from the water-filled bucket, holding the soaked sponge. "Oh I did punish him, don't get me wrong. But I probably didn't punish him as severely as I would another child. I know Roland doesn't do this because he's a mean kid or just because he wants to mess with me. He has ulterior motives and we'll discover them in time," she said in a detective-like tone, reassuring him and making him smile.

"Well, I really appreciate it," he said, his hand finding residence on her wet forearm. _When did he get so close?_ She wanted to take a step back, to remove his inappropriate hand from her arm, but she couldn't. She liked this, liked the comfort he seemed to give her. It was silly of course, he didn't do this on purpose; he was probably just a very touchy-feely kind of guy. At least that was what she told herself.

It was Robin who took his hand back. "Oops, now I got my hand all wet." He started wiping his hand on his trousers but Regina stopped him, "No, wait, I have a towel." She took a wide step to her left, grabbing the towel from the towel rack. He stretched out his hand to take over the towel, but instead of giving it to him, she wrapped the towel around his hand and started rubbing gently. She looked up at him and realised what she was doing. She gasped and pulled away immediately. "Oh god, I'm so sorry! Professional deformation, I guess." She was still gritting her teeth when he reassured her, "It's fine really," he chuckled. "I thought it was quite… cute."

 _Did he really just say that?_

She smiled awkwardly and walked to the blackboard after taking hold of her bucket again. "I'll see you some other time then," she said. He gave her a polite smile and a small bow, and she swore she could hear him say "I'll make sure you will" on his way out.

:::::::

Weeks, months even, went by without incident, and Robin started coming to the classroom more often after school to pick up Roland, who had to help clean up the class as punishment for his pranks for one week. He had continued to do it, because he liked it. Of course Regina couldn't refuse. She also couldn't deny the attraction between Robin and her. Sometimes he would bring her a coffee or a hot chocolate, and talk to her for some time after the school was empty, with Roland still happily playing with Neal and David. They talked about Henry, who joined Roland on the playground on some days, and they talked about life in general. Regina felt like she could really talk to him, like he was a friend to her. And that's what he was. A friend. A friend who hugged her sometimes, probably a little too long. A friend who tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear. A friend who always had to be touching her in some way. And she couldn't say that she minded, not even one bit.

The last period on Friday came along again. Regina sat in her chair while reading Moby Dick to her students. "Does any of you know who wrote this book?" When nobody answered, she got up to the blackboard. While she was writing _Herman Melville_ with her piece of chalk, laughter erupted behind her and she turned around swiftly. "What's happening? What's funny?" she asked, while noticing the children staring, pointing and laughing at her… butt? She angled her head to look, and yes, the back of her black pencil skirt was white now. She wiped her fingers over the seat of her chair, chalk now colouring her finger white. She immediately looked at Roland, his face sporting that well-known guilty expression. Just then the bell rang and the pupils jumped out of their seats and started walking towards the exit of the class. Roland stayed behind. He knew the procedure by now. Wiping the chalk of her skirt, she walked to his table. "Roland, I – I don't know what to say anymore. You're going to tell me now why you're doing this. _Now_."

Tears started filling the young boy's eyes, quickly overflowing and running down his cheeks. "Papa gives me M&Ms when I do something bad. I don't want to do it, Ms Mills, I really like you, but I also like candy." She stared at him, mouth agape, shaking her head. "What?" She couldn't believe it. "I'm sorry, Ms Mills, please don't punish me again." She shuffled towards him and enwrapped him in a tight hug. "Oh sweetheart, I won't punish you. I will have a word with your papa about this though."

"Are you going to punish him?"

She chuckled at that and nodded. _Damn right I will._

She helped him put on his coat and took his backpack with her on the way out. _I'll come early on Monday to clean up._

They ran into him on their way out. "Hey Roland, I was just looking for you." Roland let go of Regina's hand and hopped into his father's arms. Regina smirked at him, and he looked at her like he knew what was about to come. "Robin, can I talk to you for a minute?" He nodded and sent Roland to the playground, his usual after-school habitat.

"What is it?" he asked, immediately placing his hand on her arm. She looked at it and chuckled, "Why did you do that?" He tried to look confused, but she could tell it wasn't genuine.

"What do you mean, milady?" She smacked his hand, "Asking Roland to do those things to me of course! Do you hate me?" she asked mockingly. He smiled and places both of his hands on her shoulders, "I don't hate you." She knew well enough why he had asked Roland to do those things. "Then why on earth would you put me through all of that?" She laughed, "Today he put chalk on my chair and he made the whole class laugh at me and my white butt." Laughter erupted from both of them and Robin took another step in her direction until they were just inches apart, enveloping her in a warm hug. "It's a good butt though," he whispered into her ear. She removed herself from his embrace to look at him, though his arms remained around her waist. "Tell me, Locksley. Why?"

He sighed, "I asked him to do it so you would talk to me about him. So I could spend time with you." She smiled and looked into his deep blue eyes. "Hot for teacher, huh?"

He nodded slowly, "Very much so, milady." They were so close, their lips brushed as he said, "Hot for… parent, huh?" She smiled and nodded ever so gently, "Oh yes."

And when their lips met, Regina thought about how her chalked-up butt had been completely worth it.

* * *

Please review, it means the world to me!


	9. Candy

_A little OQ college AU one-shot. Enjoy._

* * *

 **Candy**

It was a regular Saturday night, which meant casually lounging on the bed while watching some movie. A thriller when it was his turn to pick; horror when it was hers. Or a comedy when they couldn't find another one of which the summary satisfied their expectations. And that was the case tonight.

"So, maybe _Spy_ then? _Bridesmaids_ and _The Heat_ were fine, and it's from the same director."

She pouted her lips, resting her hand in the palm of her hand, and shrugged after a few seconds, "Okay, if you want to." He shuffled towards her, looking into her already tired eyes, "But you like Melissa McCarthy, don't you?" She sprang up, eyes wide again, "It's with Melissa McCarthy? Why didn't you say so! Put it on."

He smiled at her, "Whatever milady commands."

They had been doing this for almost two years now; spending Saturday nights together in his or her dorm room, their roommates usually out with their significant others. But in all that time, nothing more than friendship had blossomed between them. They met in their freshman English lit class where they instantly hit it off. Although their friends were hopeful that the spark between them would start a blazing fire, nothing had happened. So the years had flown by, friendship had flourished through booze-filled nights out, blanket-filled nights in. Boyfriends and girlfriends came and went, though they both had no idea why they did leave. (Their friends knew though. Even these flying-by flings could sense the connection between the two friends. That's why they left. Not because of his strange taste in music or her nightly snoring. No.)

"What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked when he plumped onto the bed, starting to massage her feet, weary from their afternoon hike. She let out a soft moan that made him shiver for some reason. (He had no idea why though. Of course not, he was as perceptive as a loaf of bread.)

She sighed and told him, "Mother is visiting tomorrow, remember?" He banged his head lightly against the wall behind him and groaned, "Oh no, is that day already there?" She rolled her eyes and hummed, "Yep… You don't have to come if you don't want to, I can handle her." He shook his head, "No, I'll come, you shouldn't face her alone." She sat up and laid her hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Thanks, I really appreciate it. You know that right?" He gave her his signature dimpled smile and nodded.

"Now as much as I like this, give me my feet back, I need them enveloped in fleece," she said while tucking her feet under her legs and spreading her grey fleece blanket over her lower body. He moved closer to her and set up the laptop on the coffee table in front of them. He pulled at her blanket to give him some it as well, but she refused. "Get your own blanket, this one's mine." He pouted, "I always have a spare blanket for you in my room; you should consider doing that too. Can I take your duvet then?" She shrugged her shoulders, "Sure." (Of course she could have gotten a second blanket for him, he had asked about it multiple times. But she hadn't yet. And she told herself it's definitely not because she loves the smell he leaves on her duvet; _his_ smell. His foresty scent that makes her sleep at night, makes her feel safe.)

Cocooned in their respective warm bedspreads, they watched the movie and laughed together.

"Do you want M&Ms? I have some in my drawer." He nodded eagerly, but then stopped abruptly. "Wait, which ones did you get?" She smiled and said, "Peanut of course, I know it's your favourite." He frowned at her, "You're not serious, ri–" She punched his arm, "No, stupid, I know you're allergic. I have the regular ones."

She leaned to her left, opening the drawer in her nightstand to fish out a large pack of M&Ms. He extended his hand, expecting her to give him the chocolate, but she didn't. "I want some first. The host gets to eat first, that's a rule." He rolled his eyes, mumbling an annoyed "fine".

A few minutes later, she was still wolfing down the M&Ms, and he was having serious cravings. "Can I please have some? Pretty please? With ice cream on top? With chocolate sauce, cookies and sprinkles on that?" She sighed, wanting to sound annoyed – though she was clearly amused – and buried her hand in the already half-empty bag, to give him a handful. When her hand re-emerged with just one M&M in it, she decided to tease him.

"Okay, you can have one at a time." He groaned, "Why must you do this to me, woman?" She laughed and handed him his first M&M before popping some into her own mouth. He looked at her as if his eyes were about to start shooting darts at her. "Oh you want something? Maybe this?" she said, pointing at the bag in her lap. He snorted and nodded, getting really irritated. "Here you go."

 _Huzzah, I got one more. What did I do to deserve this honour?_

Practically throwing another handful into her mouth, she looked at him with an amused smirk. _No, this wouldn't do_ , he thought. He threw the duvet off of him and moved closer to her to snatch the bag out of her hands but she was too quick. Tossing it back into her drawer, she looked at him – _when did he get this close_ – mumbling with full mouth, "Sorry, no more M &Ms for you, mister."

"Well, then maybe I have to find to another way to get some."

Without thinking, he leaned forward, placed his hands on either side of her face, and put his mouth on hers, immediately tasting his so desired M&Ms.

 _That'll teach her._

But then, after the initial shock, she reciprocated his actions and pushed her lips onto his, laying her hands on his muscled chest.

With the original taste of chocolate long gone, now simply reverberating on their lips, his M&M-stealing expedition turned into a long-awaited kiss. When they both realised what they were doing, they pulled away from each other, the kiss breaking with a sounding pop. She looked into his usually familiar blue eyes, now a shade darker and emitting lust and want.

He gasped and wanted to say something, wanted to tell her how sorry he was, that he never meant for that to happen–

But his thoughts got interrupted by her hands fisting into his shirt and pulling him back towards her, claiming his lips into another kiss: one that was meant to be a kiss from the offset.

They felt it now. Felt that ever-lurking spark ignite, felt a fire beginning to burn low in their stomachs when he licked her lip, asking for entrance she willingly gave. And while exploring each other's warm mouths, the taste of chocolate still lingering, they shared a silent thought about how her protectiveness of candy was the best thing to ever happen to them.

* * *

 _Please review. Thanks for reading!_


	10. Spoken

_A/N: a little Missing Year fluff for you._

* * *

 **Spoken**

It's when they're laying together in her bed, supported by fluffy pillows and feathery mattresses, that the words roll off her tongue ever so smoothly. They're a mess of mingled breaths and tangled limbs, both completely sated and foolishly smiling. His firm chest is pressed against her back, his softening length teasing her thigh. He kisses his way down her neck and shoulder, all the while caressing her soft hip.

This had been nothing more than a distraction for both of them, pleasuring each other between attacks from flying monkeys and threats from her wicked sister. But as time seeped through, quick, stress-filled shags in a dark corridor were replaced by sweet, lingering kisses, and her strict no-sleepover rule was broken every night he spent with her.

The day is fast approaching; a cold one at that. Lightly shivering, she turns in his embrace and wraps her arms around his waist, groaning at the feeling of his warmth seeping inside through her pores. She buries her face in the crook of his neck, pecking the skin she can reach. He cups her messy head of hair and strokes the knots out of her raven strands. They lay like that for a while, relishing in the comfort they provide each other. Then her breathing evens out, warm and moist exhales painting his skin. He kisses her forehead and the ghost of his lips stays to linger there. When she speaks the words, he's not sure whether she's awake or not. They're words he thought would remain unspoken – by her at least. He hadn't needed those words from her, could feel them with every caress, every kiss, every token of affection. But they come anyway.

"I love you," she breaths against him.

He swallows, doesn't know what to do other than return the sentiment. When he does, he thinks she didn't hear him, thinks she was asleep all along, that her words were simply an absent-minded and dreamy thought of what could be. He doesn't feel her smile against his skin though, doesn't pick up on the increase in her heart rate when her words echoed back at her.

Her walls are tumbling down right in front of him and he doesn't even seem to notice. There's still time for that though. They have all the time in the world.

* * *

 _A/N: Please review, it means everything to me._


	11. Milestones

Written for Cherish the peanut day 1: Milestones on Tumblr

 **First night sleeping without a pacifier (The Pacifairy)**

* * *

"Sweetheart, it's time," Regina said, stroking her daughter's chestnut hair. She'd been postponing this moment for as long as possible, but now it really was time. If Ellie kept it up any longer, she would become too dependent and those things were just not good for her teeth.

Henry rose from his spot at the kitchen table, abandoning his homework, and walked over to the two of them sitting on the couch, taking place next to his sister. "Ellie, I had to do it too once. It's not a big deal," he said, patting her shoulder in an attempt to comfort his sobbing sister. "But…" she started, looking up at Henry with those big blue eyes, now stained with sadness, "I can't sleep without my binky." Pouting, she buried her warm cheeks under her brother's arm. "I don't want to give it up, Henry."

Henry and Regina shared an anxious look when Robin came through the door. "Good evening, everyone!" he said, storing his jacket in the closet under the staircase. Walking into the living room, he immediately noticed the sad-looking gathering of pouts and tears, and rushed over to his family. He kneeled before Ellie, resting his hands on her knees, "What's wrong, darling?" She removed herself from Henry's embrace and pouted in Robin's direction. "Mommy's making me give up my binky." He half-smiled, sighing, and looked at Regina, who was eyeing him, urging him to say something. He cupped Ellie's cheek and wiped the tears away, "Mommy's right, sweetheart, you're going to have to sleep without it one day, right?"

"No," she said, fervently shaking her head. Regina lowered her head, stroking some stray locks of hair out of her face, "Hey, you're a big girl, aren't you?" She looked up at her mother, changing the direction of her shaking head to a nodding of yes. "I'm a big girl too and I don't have one either," she cooed, hoping that would change her mind, Ellie being her mother's biggest fan. But she simply sighed and said, "No."

Suddenly, something sparked inside Regina's mind.

"Hey honey, let me tell you a story. When Henry was your age, he had to give up his binky too; he'd become a big boy and big boys don't need pacifiers to sleep at night. So we gift-wrapped it and placed it on the coffee table, together with a chocolate bar and a glass of wine. You know why?" Ellie shook her head, entranced by the story. "Because there was a fairy coming to get it, honey. A very special fairy, who's in charge of picking up big boys' and girls' old binkies. And she just _loved_ us for also giving her chocolate and wine, because she's very fond of it."

Robin smirked at her, realizing there was no such thing as a binky fairy. He'd become familiar with Santa Claus, after being fooled by Regina and Henry, who had convinced him that he was very real, and that if you were very silent, you could sneak a peek at night when he came over to bring the presents and candy. So he'd hidden on the staircase, waiting for a glimpse, but Santa never came. Regina and Henry had been so very amused after this, but Robin wouldn't get fooled again. A full-on smile appeared on his face when he thought about Regina enjoying the fairy's wine and chocolate at night when Henry was asleep.

"She appreciated it so much that she gave Henry presents in return, for being such a good boy. And I'm sure she'll do that for you too."

If Ellie wasn't paying attention before, she sure was now. Her big eyes looked up at her mother's, "Really, Mommy?" Regina nodded and reciprocated, "Really."

"What's the fairy's name?"

 _Oh_ , Regina thought. Of course Ellie would ask this. She was a girl obsessed with fairies after all, with her godmother being one. She threw Robin a fast look, urging him to help her. She started mumbling, "Uh, it's… Uh… Her name is–"

"She's the Pacifairy!" Robin exclaimed. Regina and Henry pushed back a snort to the back of their throats. A big smile appeared on Regina's face instead, and she nodded, "Yes, the Pacifairy's coming for your binky, honey."

"That's her name?" she said, frowning, not grasping the humour of it. Robin smiled at her, "Yes, sweetheart, she's from a special land called… Pun… Donia. Pundonia! It's a very peculiar place, but everyone's extremely kind over there."

"But she won't come if you're on the lookout, Ellie. You have to stay in your bed all night long, okay?" Henry interrupted after having caught the sly expression in her eyes. Regina threw Henry an appreciative glance. _Thank God for him_.

Ellie sighed, still pondering over whether or not she was willing to get rid of her binky.

 _But there will be toys…_

Her choice was made.

"Okay, Mommy, the Pacifairy can have my binky."

Regina, Henry and Robin enveloped their little girl in a tight hug, whispering words of praise into her ears.

That night, Ellie slept peacefully without her binky, dreaming about the beautiful fairy and all the gifts she would be getting, while Robin and Regina enjoyed some chocolate and the -now- bottle of wine left by Ellie ("Pacifairy will be very thirsty after having flown all the way here from Pundonia").

"Pacifairy was an excellent move on your part," she said, nearly making him spit out his wine. He laughed and agreed, "One of the things I love about this world is its pun-loving nature."

She smiled and buried herself deeper against him, both of them relishing in the joys of being a parent.


	12. Daddy's Girl

Written for Cherish the Peanut day 2: Daddy's Girl on Tumblr

 **Ellie learns how to ride a bike (and so does Robin)**

* * *

"Daddy?"

Robin looked up from his breakfast to find his little girl standing by his side. He'd gotten up early for his Saturday morning shift at the sheriff's station while the others slept in. "What are you already doing up, sweetheart?"

She gave him a sweet smile, "I couldn't sleep and then I thought of something." He raked his hand through Ellie's knotty waves, ending with a tap to her nose. "And what's that?" She looked to the ground and started fidgeting with her fingers, "Well, I thought that maybe you could teach me to ride a bike?" she said, finishing her sentence with a hopeful glance in Robin's direction.

He swallowed, not sure what to say. Truth be told, Robin never learned how to ride a bike once he got here. Roland had learned fairly soon, enjoying the fast freedom of cruising through the streets on his metal steed. But not Robin. He rubbed his hand over the back of his head, mumbling something that sounded like, "Uh, yeah, sure, sweetheart… We can do that soon", not wanting to disappoint his daughter. Ellie stood on her tiptoes, planting a wet smooch on her father's cheek. "Thank you, Daddy!"

"Not a problem!" he called after her, the tapping of her feet already resounding on the staircase.

 _Bloody hell._

:::::

"Ellie asked me something today," Robin said that evening when he exited the bathroom, crawling into bed next to Regina, who closed her book at the same time. She moved to him while he pulled her close. "What was it?" He snorted a little, "Well, she asked me to teach her to ride a bike."

Regina buried her face into his chest, smiling against his skin, "Oh no, she didn't." She looked up at him and noticed the slightly ashamed look in his eyes. "It's nothing, Robin. I can teach her, or Henry, or Roland even." He nodded, sighing "I guess" while he rolled over to turn off the light. But Regina stopped him and placed her hand on his arm.

"What is it?" she asked, clearly concerned. Robin sighed, "I just feel like she would be disappointed if _I_ didn't teach her… Since she asked _me_ specifically, you know?" Regina threw him a sympathetic smile, caressing the subtle stubble on his cheek.

"Well, there's only way to make that happen, isn't there?"

:::::

"Regina, this is impossible. I can't do this!" he exclaimed, positively shaking and wobbling from left to right, left to right. "Just keep it up, and try going in a straight line!" she shouted.

 _Yeah, as if that's possible_ , Robin thought, before slamming to the hard concrete of the abandoned parking lot with his bike for the umpteenth time. Regina rushed to him, helping him up while encouraging him with sweet and uplifting words.

He groaned, clearly annoyed, "You don't even need to know how to ride a bike to teach it! You aren't doing anything yourself so why am I even learning? I can teach Ellie without knowing how to myself. I can do it."

And so he did. Or he tried to at least.

:::::

"Just keep it up, and try going in a straight line, Ellie," he said, reciprocating Regina's words since he had nothing else to say. "Keep pedalling, you can do it!"

She couldn't.

Her fingers wound around the breaks and she made the bike come to a stop. _Something I couldn't even do,_ Robin ran up to him, loosening her helmet before throwing it to the ground. "I can't do it, Daddy!" she exclaimed, throwing herself against his chest, sobbing until tears started staining the cloth of her scarf. "Can you do it first so I can look and do everything like you?"

He swallowed, staring into his daughter's wet eyes, and sighed. He couldn't disappoint his little girl. "Okay, sweetheart, I'll get the boy bike."

And here he was, helmet on his head, bike at the ready, knee-pads and elbow-pads in place ("Why do you still need those, Daddy?" "Oh, just to be safe, Ellie"). This was it; the moment of truth, the real test. Robin imagined the great triumph he would experience if he succeeded, his daughter's big blue eyes looking at him in awe.

Unfortunately, that's exactly where his triumph stayed: in his imagination.

Two seconds in, Robin crashed to the ground, his elbow-pad saving him from an ugly wound. "Daddy!" he heard from afar, tapping shoes approaching him. "Daddy, are you okay?" He sat up, pulling Ellie down onto his lap, wiping the lost strays of hair out of her face. "I'm fine, sweetheart. But I must admit something," he said, scrunching his nose. "I actually can't ride a bike."

Her eyes widened while the corners of her mouth curled up to reveal a big bright smile. "Why didn't you say so before?" She started pulling at his arm, urging him to get up. "Come on, we'll get Mommy to teach us both! We'll learn much faster when there's two of us! It's more fun together!"

And it was. It really was.

:::::

A million and one attempts later, here Ellie and Robin were, riding their bikes side by side through the streets of Storybrooke, the wind waving through the locks that had escaped from under Ellie's helmet.

"Daddy, we're doing it!" she shouted, never looking anywhere but straight in front of her, like her Mommy had taught her. "I know, sweetheart! Well done!"

And in that moment, Robin felt so free, completely liberated of all the fears he once had, that he closed his eyes, spread his arms out wide, and–

Well, that was something he'd have to learn another time.


	13. Mother Knows Best

Written for Cherish the Peanut day 3: Mother Knows Best on Tumblr

 **Ellie falls and Regina kisses her booboos away (or the story of how Ellie learns that Mommy's affection _is_ to be taken for granted)**

* * *

A piercing scream pulled Regina out of her concentration. She dropped the kitchen knife on the table, abandoning the half-sliced onion, and ran outside, loudly asking Ellie if she was okay. Regina found her on the pebbles in the garden on her hands and knees, thick tears starting to stain her rosy cheeks. She dashed towards her, crouching next to her, and started patting her shoulders.

"Honey, are you okay? What happened?" Ellie looked up at her, still crying, and repositioned herself so she was sitting. "I fell," she said, barely understandable, while she pointed at her knee, where a nasty wound had formed. Regina let out a hiss when she caught sight of her daughter's knee, scooping her up and carrying her inside, before laying her down on the couch. "Wait a second, I'm getting a towel and the first-aid kit to fix that, sweetheart."

She grabbed it all as fast as she could, not wanting to let her daughter cry for a second longer (and she also feared that Ellie's bloody knee would stain her expensive couch – blood stains were something even her magic couldn't fix). Swiftly making her way back to Ellie, she sat next to her, and lifted up her leg to place it back gently on her towelled lap. After disinfecting her hands, she removed the remaining pebbles and dirt from Ellie's knee, getting some squirming cries and "Mommy, it hurts" in return. "Shhh, I know, sweetheart, but it'll be over soon." Ellie's wet eyes looked up from her knee, "You promise?" Her mother threw back a reassuring smile, "I promise."

After cleaning and wrapping the wound in a bandage, Regina gave Ellie's lower leg a loving squeeze, asking her if she could bring her anything. "Some hot chocolate? Or maybe a cookie? Just this once?" Ellie pouted and shook her head, "It hurts too much." Regina sighed compassionately, teasingly pinching her cheek, saying "I know something that will get rid of _all_ the pain." Ellie's big eyes stared up at her in awe, "Really?" Regina nodded and bowed, lowering her lips to the freshly-lain bandage, giving it a soft kiss. "But it only works when Mommies do it. Because we have a special kind of kiss," she said, winking in her daughter's direction.

:::::

Her eyes opened swiftly when she felt a light tugging at her duvet, and when she looked down, she saw a pair of blue eyes staring up at her, chestnut hair accentuated by the moonlight streaming in through the half-closed curtains. "Ellie, what are you doing up?" she whispered. A clear pout appeared on her face, "My belly hurts, Mommy." Regina sat up after entangling herself from Robin's embrace, and caressed her daughter's cheek, asking "Do you need anything? Some tea maybe?"

Ellie looked at the ground, mumbling something that got lost in the dark. "Honey, what did you say?" She looked up again, "Can I have a kiss? One of your special Mommy kisses?" Regina smiled, "Of course, sweetheart," and got up, taking Ellie by the hand and leading her back to her room. She sat them on the bed, urging Ellie to lie down before she asked her where exactly it hurt. She pointed her finger to a spot left of her belly button, and Regina slid up Ellie's pyjama top to place a tender kiss there. "How are you feeling now then?" Regina asked while standing up to take the duvet and tuck her back in. "All better!" Ellie said happily, tugging the duvet over her chin. Regina smiled, and bowed down one last time to kiss her on the forehead. "Good," she said.

She walked over to the door, making sure her nightlight was still on, and closed the door behind her, telling Ellie to "sleep tight, honey."

:::::

The next couple of weeks were a peculiar hodgepodge of seemingly unfortunate events.

Ellie seemed to be hurt more than Regina could count on all of her fingers (and toes at that). She hit her elbow against the door, she had a headache, she stubbed her foot against the coffee table… The list went on and on and on. But the strangest thing, the thing Regina had yet to discover was that for Ellie, there was only one single remedy for all of these little pains: Mommy's kisses.

"Don't you think it's strange that Ellie's been hurting herself so much lately?" Regina asked Robin on a chilly night when they were getting ready for bed. "Yes, I do think it's rather strange. She used to be more careful in the past. Or at least not as reckless." Regina hit his arm playfully on her way out of the bathroom, "Reckless? Oh please, Robin, she's a five-year-old child." Robin nodded, "A rather cunning one at that." Climbing into bed, she frowned, "Why would you say that?"

He smirked at her, "You really have no idea why she's been hurt this often? Or why she's been _saying_ she's hurt?" Regina's frown deepened, "You mean she's been lying about being hurt? Why would she do that?"

Robin approached the bed, crawling in next to her. He moved closer, planting a loving kiss on her lips before saying, "Because of your magical kisses, milady."

:::::

When Ellie entered Regina's office the next day, complaining about her "auwchy pinkie", Regina urged her to sit on her lap, sideways so she was still facing her.

"What happened to your pinkie, Ellie?" she asked. Ellie swallowed audibly, mumbling under her breath that she hit it against the wall. While Regina began stroking her wavy hair, she asked, "Is that really true?" Ellie looked up swiftly, a fierce but worried look in her eyes, "Yes!" Regina sighed, raking the knots out of Ellie's hair, "Because I wouldn't be mad if it isn't." Her blue eyes turned a shade gentler, "Really?" Regina nodded, and smiled.

"You weren't really hurt all those times in the last few weeks, were you?" Ellie's instant guilt showed in her eyes and she immediately looked down and started fidgeting with her fingers. "You can tell me, sweetheart."

Her face stayed low but Regina could her hear just fine, "I wasn't hurt."

"But why did you say so anyway, sweetheart?"

Ellie looked up again, tears welling up, finally admitting that "I wanted a kiss from you".

Regina sighed, removing her hand from Ellie's hair and placing it on her cheek instead. "Listen to me, sweetheart, I want you– I _need_ you to know something. You don't have to be hurt to get my attention, or my affection, or my anything. You are my daughter and I _love_ you. Please don't pretend to be hurt ever again, my dear. You can get kisses any time you want."

Ellie's eyes widened, "Even the special ones?"

Regina laughed, saying "Especially the special ones," before tickling her daughter's sides and burying her in kisses.

From then on, Ellie got only special kisses from her Mommy, because all of Mommy's kisses were special beyond belief.


	14. You smell really nice

_Prompt on Tumblr from dear Chelsea ( daggzandarrows): You smell really nice._

* * *

They were lying in bed, his arm wrapped around her waist and her head resting on his still heaving chest, weak in the legs and sticky in between. She was pleasantly buzzed – Granny's seasonal mulled wine was something else – and so was he, both dizzily looking at each other while exchanging their fair share of lazy afterglow kisses.

He raked his hand through her raven locks, stopping at every knot to spare her of any discomfort. She traced the stubble of his jaw with her finger, occasionally caressing the dimple that appeared whenever he smiled at her.

" **You smell really nice."**

He frowned and moved his gaze to face hers, softly shaking his head and deepening his frown some more. "I thought you always said I smell like forest?"

She shook her head against his chest, "Not just forest."

He smirked at her, feigning innocence by widening his eyes, making her drown in there for just a moment, a moment always too short it seems to him.

"Now you smell of forest, of wine, of chocolate, of warmth, of… of home."

He sighed, and smiled, pulling her towards him just a little closer, wrapping his arm around her just a little tighter, kissing her just a little stronger, loving her just a little harder.


	15. When he became non-existent, I

_Written after the death of Robin Hood. *cries*_

* * *

She never really knew how to cope with loss very well. The first months, years even, after Robin's death were bad. So bad. She secluded herself yet again in that big, cold mansion of hers. First, she found refuge in the bedroom. She used to lay down on her side of the bed – never on his side, never. Until she did. One day, she found herself on a cold, still plump pillow, her hand patting the mattress, looking for the comfort that once could be found there. And then she smelled it. His smell, still on that pillow. That was the last day she ever spent in her bedroom.

The kitchen was a safer option, she thought. At this time, Henry had started visiting her again, and they'd just cook together. Lasagna, apple turnovers, you name it – they made it all. Until they didn't. When Henry suggested they try and make Chinese food – noodles and crispy duck –, she said "yes, of course", because that was what they, all of them, used to do before all went to hell (hah, she thought). During the preparation, her kitchen suddenly appeared too small for even one person to breathe in, and she ran outside. And she sobbed. She'd live on kale salad and soup from Granny's from now on.

She fled to her office. A sanctuary of some sort, where she could just work, and work, and on and on and on. Or so she thought. One day, she was working on that godforsaken pavement report, and she oh so desperately needed new staples for the now empty stapler, and she searched and searched, convinced there had to be some left, somewhere. She looked in every drawer and every box, but staples were the last thing she found. Instead, in the umpteenth drawer she checked, lay an envelope, and it was clearly addressed to her. She cringed when she saw that typical young boy's hand writing on it. She took it, and sat down again, the staples long forgotten, and simply stared at the various streaks that formed a painful _MY MAJESTY_. Inside had been a drawing of their family – or of what used to be their family, her family. She never opened it.

Then came the period of excessive bathing. She felt dirty all the time – as if the red fog that hung in the air in the Underworld was still clouding her vision. And so she soaked for hours on end. Until she didn't. The air bubbling up to the surface now and then tickled her skin. The bubbles caressed her arms, her legs, her breasts in such a gentle way, a way that reminded her of him, of how he would trace the breaking line between water and air on her skin. She stopped taking baths then.

She was out of room, out of drive, out of… air.

And Regina wondered if it would ever get better.


End file.
